


Doctor who big old lesbian

by Penguinologist



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Theyre going to have sex i think, Trans Doctor (Doctor Who), Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penguinologist/pseuds/Penguinologist
Summary: Oogh I wrote dr who fanfic in 2020 :(
Relationships: The Doctor/River Song, Thirteenth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Doctor who big old lesbian

* * *

You’ve died a lot. A whole lot. Executions, radiation poisonings, Dalek lasers, human bullets, crash landings, even old age a couple of times. It’s always different, and yet, always very much the same. It always seems to start with pain- one of the major downsides, in your opinion. Then the frenzied mental process, weighing medical knowledge against physical experience and spur of the moment ideas. Sometimes, even the vast majority of the time, you manage to wriggle your way out of it during that step. Occasionally though, you’ll encounter that one in a thousand unwinnable situation- or else just get a little sloppy- and then comes that telltale rush of hormones to let you know your time’s up yet again. Then, it’s the best you can do to lie back and accept it. Tell some humans you love them and that you’ll never forget them, and ask them not to forget you, and try to remember what it feels like to be new again as your body grows hot and your mind goes cold. Trying to remain optimistic as light flashes and you slip down into darkness. Again, and again, and again.

And then, well, it’s hard to describe. Someone else is in your place, and yet, it’s you who’s taken someone else’s place. All your memories intact, or most of them, at least, eventually, but not  _ your _ memories. Guilt, silly stupid guilt, and pleasure, one of the greatest pleasures in life, because everything’s all begun again and it’s all so  _ interesting _ . 

Regeneration. Such a clinical word for such a messy process. It’s magic, plain and simple, the kind of thing science can only get within a hundred yards of and squint its eyes at enviously.

And this time was especially good; bouncing around with energy you hadn’t felt in centuries, making new friends like it was the easiest thing in the world, immediately digging up new mysteries and adventures- a whirlwind of fun and adventure such as your previous self (the old grouch) had never truly known.

And- oh!  _ Oh!!!  _ A woman!! You! A woman! Finally! How fun was that?? So fun. Not a huge deal of course, no bigger than the change in age or temperament, but interesting nonetheless, and  _ very _ new. Definitely something to think about later. First, this gross tooth alien guy. Wait no, find the TARDIS, then Rosa Parks,  _ then _ giant spiders, and then finally, uh, a trash planet, then India, then space amazon (really?), some horror movie stuff, and then, oh, tooth-guy’s back!

Wow! There sure is a lot of stuff to do this time around! Of course, it doesn’t help that every time you get a moment alone, after dropping your friends back home and closing the tardis doors behind them, you find your foot starts tapping, and your legs start pacing, and more or less immediately you’re at the console again, skipping forward a few days to the next time they said they’d be available for adventuring, and suddenly you’re off again.

You know you’re being a little, well,  _ manic _ , but it’s hardly like its the first time. And who cares anyway? You’re new! You can afford to have a little fun before the really serious stuff starts back up. And you know it will. Sooner or later you’ll find yourself, through some bizarre set of circumstances, trapped on some backwater planet or time period for weeks, years, centuries, and all you’ll have to entertain yourself will be your own thoughts. So, you figure, why not just save up any introspection and brooding until then? Yep, you’re a doctor, and you diagnose that plan with absolute genius.

Besides, maybe you’re just a little too grown-up for all that stuff nowadays. In your last life, you’d spent  _ so much time _ feeling like- pardon your language-  _ shit _ , for reasons you never entirely understood. In fact, that had been a common theme throughout most of your lives. That last one especially though. Maybe because, going into it, you’d been so optimistic? It had seemed like such a gift at the time, after spending so long on Trenzalore. Watching yourself wither away over hundreds of years, only to be rescued at the last moment by Clara Oswald and Gallifrey itself, the planet who’s apparent death centuries earlier had caused so much of your pain. How could things not get better?

But then, you’d changed- maybe more suddenly than ever before- and everything had still felt so... wrong. So terribly wrong. And it had never gone away. Not, anyway, until...

A sound from the tardis console startles you out of your reverie. You shake your head, and are surprised to find yourself still sitting slumped against the front doors, having just dropped Yaz off at her parents’ house.

“Right!” You say, shooting to your feet and striding towards the console as if nothing had happened, trying not to let embarrassment show on your face. “Where to next, old girl?”

The Tardis makes a few subtle noises, accompanied by slight pulses of psychic energy, which you pretend not to understand as sounding concerned.

“I’m thinking... Lamphidreon Nebula?” You say, dancing around, pushing and pulling the appropriate levers and buttons and things, “Or, ooh! New Jupiter? Say, sometime in the 9300‘s? Remember, they had that great evil empire we never got around to? Bound to be some fun there!  _ Or _ maybe we could- ah, hey what’re you- _! _ ”

You’re cut off by the floor violently bucking to the side, sending you stumbling backwards, just as the console’s controls start moving on their own, screens displaying coordinates nothing like those you had just been inputting. 

“Hey, c’mon now!” you say, holding onto one of the big orange crystal-y things for balance as the room shakes around. Over the general din, you make out sounds you can loosely interpret as ‘ _ No,  _ you _ come on! An evil empire is  _ not _ what you need right now!’ _

“And just what is it  _ you _ think I need, hm?” You reply, irritation mixing with genuine curiosity in your voice. She responds, 

‘ _ A night off, Doctor! _ ’

With one final jolt, you feel the Tardis set down on some unknown surface, and the shaking stops. You pull yourself up, trying to ignore the nausea, and take a look at the screens, trying to decipher where she’s placed you. Before you can, though, the front doors swing open, and you hear the telltale sounds of...

“A  _ pub???” _ you ask, incredulously, “When have I ever wanted to go to a  _ pub _ ??”

When you receive no reply, you quirk your mouth to the side in annoyance, looking between the console and the door. Outside, you can see a street-lit sidewalk, snow falling gently. 

_ “Fine _ , I  _ guess _ ,” You say, bundling your thin jacket around you as you trudge towards the door, “But if I really wanted a night off, I’d spend it in here, y’know.” 

You feel a small burst of warm psychic energy hurrying you along, and you crack a small smile in spite of yourself.

You look around as you step into the cold winter night outside. You know you’re not on Earth, but there’s definitely a strong resemblance. Probably another human-majority planet. Most of the street you’re on seems to be brownstone apartment buildings, so you can safely assume the Tardis intended you for the well-lit, noisy establishment you’re parked in front of. You consider briefly just walking off and exploring the city on your own, purely out of spite, but know you’re probably here for a good reason. 

Taking a deep breath, you push the door open, and immediately aren’t sure how to feel about the revelation that this is really more of a club than a pub. It’s not  _ too _ crowded, thank god, but there’s certainly a fair number of people inside, dancing, laughing, talking and drinking. You stand in the doorway for a moment too long, staring at them all, and draw a few annoyed looks from nearby patrons for letting the cold air in.

“Ah, sorry, sorry!” You say to the crowd, stepping fully inside and wiping your feet on the welcome mat. Glancing around, you notice a few empty seats around the far corner of the bar and determine to claim one before anyone else does. You duck and weave your way across the room and plonk yourself into the bar-stool furthest from anyone else. Perfect. You’re a master of socialization.

The bartender glances at you and holds up a finger to signal she’ll be over as soon as she can, and you nod, not really in any hurry to start drinking. You press your hands into the leather cushion of the stool between your legs, rocking back and forth slightly as you look around the place, taking it in. The dance floor takes up the majority of the room, and the majority of the clientele are making use of it, though several sit at the bar and around tables nearer the door. Most are human, though a few other species pepper the crowd, all humanoid. A lot of the humans also have some pretty extensive body-mods, both genetic and cybernetic. If you had to guess, you’d say twenty-ninth century, though it could be later.

There’s something else about the crowd here, something nagging at the back of your mind that you can’t quite put your finger on. Trying to puzzle it out keeps you occupied until the bartender approaches.

“Hey there,” she says, “like the outfit.”

“Oh! Thanks,” you say, pulling out your shirt by its hem and looking down at it. You know your clothes stick out here, but you’re used to that. It’s a comfortable kind of attention. “I like yours too! And your hair, and piercings!” You smile widely up at her. Complimenting people feels great, huh?

“Aw, thanks kid,” she says with a grin, “that’s sweet. Can I getcha anything to drink?”

“Uhhh,” you say, wracking your brains for what humans would be drinking in the time period you think this is, “Could I get a... Medusean Mule?”

“Comin’ right up,” She says with a nod, and you silently pump your fist as she bends down to get the ingredients from under the bar. As she mixes the drink she asks with a smirk, “So, uhh... can I ask- ya seem a little tense. First time in a place like this?”

“Huh?” You ask, confused, “No, I’ve been in thousands of places like this!”

She raises an eyebrow as she stirs, and her smirk doesn’t go away.

“Really?” 

For some reason, you feel your cheeks turn slightly pink.

“Y-yes!” You insist. She laughs.

“Sorry, didn’t mean anything by it,” she says, passing your drink across the bar, “you just seem a little new is all.”

“Well, I am that,” you admit, taking the copper mug from her and sipping at the black stirrer. She laughs again.

“Well, I hope y’like it here. Lemme know if you need anything else, honey.” She shoots you a wink before turning away, leaving you sipping your drink, trying not to turn any pinker than you already are.

You go back to people watching for a while, bobbing your head in time to the house music playing. This is... nice, you suppose. Definitely more relaxing than running from monsters. Or after monsters, for that matter. Still, you don’t feel entirely comfortable approaching anyone. Some of your past regenerations had enjoyed the bar scene, but you aren’t sure it’s exactly for you. You tend to make friends in the heat of the moment, when everything’s on the line. That’s when you shine. Not here, where normal people come to meet one another. Like, what? You just go up to that girl over there? And say, what? “Hi”? As if.

Huh... y’know, it’s funny, that particular girl looks quite a bit like...

Wait.

__ _ “RIVER???”  _

You mean to shout it, but your mouth is half full of medusean cocktail at the moment, so it comes out as more of a half-shouted garble. Still, it draws the attention of several patrons, chief among them  _ your freaking wife, _ who’s currently seated about fifteen feet away from you, chatting up some girl with green skin and a mohawk. She looks at you quizzically, then appears to hold in a laugh as she sees how you’ve spat all over yourself. You ignore that, waving your arms around wildly, trying to beckon her over. She gives you a strange look, but, apparently intrigued, says something to the girl she’s been talking to _ \-  _ before planting a quick kiss on her cheek!!!!- and making her way over to your end of the bar.

“Sorry,” she says with a smirk once she’s reached you, “But do I know you?”

“Well, I should think so!” You say without thinking, emotions swirling inside you. You want to throw your arms around her and slap her and cry and demand to know how she can be here all at once, and you find yourself unable to do any of it because dear god you just remembered you’re a woman now and that was never a big deal until right this moment and how the hell are you supposed to explain this to River oh god oh g

“Sweetie?” She asks, looking concerned, “You okay? You seem, uh... unwell.”

You look up at her and realize you may have been hyperventilating a little. Combine with the alien vodka all over your shirt... it’s probably not your best look.

“Um,” you say, sitting up straighter and trying to put on a calmer face, “Could I, uh... buy you a drink?”

She gives you a funny, appraising look, and for a moment you think she’ll just laugh and walk away. To your surprise, she sits down next to you.

“Hey, Carla,” She calls to the bartender without taking her eyes off you, “two of those lagers for me and my friend here, please.”

“O-oh,” you say, as Carla pours your beers, “that works too, I guess,”   
River smiles that knowing smile you know so well.

“I never let a pretty girl buy me a drink,” she says as Carla slides you your pint glasses

“ _ O-oh,”  _ you say again, your face now well and truly red.

“Now, tell me,” she says, conspiratorially, “how is it you know my name? I can’t believe I’d forget that face. Who are you?”

“I... ah...” you say, your mind racing for words, “w-well, that is, um, you see...” 

You trail off, staring at her like a deer caught in headlights. 

__ _ It’s not a big deal, _ a voice in your head reminds you.  _ Nobody cares! Certainly not River! _

_ But, _ another voice counters,  _ if I tell her now, then every time she sees a past version of me from now on, she’ll know. Before I ever did. _

__ _ But, _ the first voice says, argumentatively,  _ if that happens, it’s already been the case all along. River’s always known things about our future she couldn’t tell us! That doesn’t mean we should keep things from her! _

__ _ It also doesn’t mean we have to tell her everything!! _

__ _ What are we even hiding though? What are we so afraid she’ll think of us? _

The second, more pessimistic voice doesn’t really need to answer on that one, because, though none of you can quite put it into words, all three of you feel that same fear, deep down. It’s the same fear you felt when you first met her in your last body, suddenly no longer the eternally young, variably handsome man she’d fallen in love with- the same fear you’d felt twinges of whilst oh-so casually dropping the information that you had previously been a man at all among your new human friends, all the while silently watching for their reactions. The same fear, perhaps, that you’d felt being near Missy when she’d first changed. The fear you’d felt among every friend you’d ever had of her... persuasion.  _ Your _ persuasion.

You just... don’t want River to see you differently.

_ She's staring at us. _

__ _ What? _

__ _ River. She’s staring at us right now.  _

__ _ Oh god you’re right, how long have we been not talking?? _

__ _ Shit _

__ _ What’s that look on her face? _

__ _ Oh god  _

__ _ Why’s she looking at us like that!! _

__ _ Oh god oh fu- _

__ _ “Doctor?”  _

Her voice is nearly a whisper, her eyes almost as wide as your own. You grimace so hard it feels like your face is about to turn inside-out.

“It... it  _ is _ you, isn’t it?” She asks, looking awed, reaching a tentative hand out as if to touch you, but instead just letting it hang in the air between, unable to close the gap.

You slump into your seat, gaze falling away from hers as your eyes start to water.

“H... how did you know?”

She stares at you for a second, then snorts, and starts laughing. You start to look away, but she shocks you by pulling you into a hug. 

“Sweetie,” she says, “you just spent forty five seconds trying to figure out how to answer when I asked who you were _. _ Who else could you be?”

“I... I...” You stutter, blinking tears from your eyes as your senses are overwhelmed by her sudden closeness. It’s been so many years since you’ve last seen her, but she still smells the same, still feels the same. Despite yourself, you choke out a laugh of your own, and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her tightly to yourself. “I’ve missed you,” You murmur into her shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too,” she replies softly, then pulls away slightly to look you up and down and say, “Though from the looks of things, you’ve been through a lot more than I have since we’ve last seen each other!”

“Ah,” you say, recoiling a little. “You, um... noticed.”

“You’re damn right I noticed!” She says with a laugh. You wither under her gaze.

“I...S-sorry...” You say, leaning away and wrapping your arms around your midsection, avoiding eye contact again.

“What?” She asks, genuine confusion creasing her face, “What on earth for? _ ” _

“Because... I’m not... y’know...” you gesture unhelpfully to yourself, then say in a small voice, “...the... man you married.”

“And what difference does that?” She asks, placing her hands on her hips. “You know I’m bi! My first relationship was with a girl!”

“Yes, but...”

“Doctor,” she says, leaning in again and putting a firm hand on your knee, “don’t be stupid. I’ll love you no matter what form you take. And besides that,” 

Before you can do anything, she leans in the rest of the way and presses her lips to yours. 

She only hangs there a few seconds, her mouth slightly open against your own, but it feels slow, and caring, and you feel as if you could melt on the spot. When she pulls away, she has her thumb and forefinger under your chin, as if making sure you can’t avoid her gaze.

“You’re beautiful, Doctor.”

You stare into her sparkling eyes for a long moment, a warmth you haven’t felt in a long time, and certainly not in this body, filling your core. After a while, you break eye contact, blushing, and she takes a drink from her beer, still smiling at you. 

“You should try yours,” she says, nodding towards your glass, “It’ll go flat if you leave it.”

“Oh, right,” you say sheepishly, picking it up and taking a sip. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You take another, and another. “Hey, that’s pretty good!” you exclaim, a small mustache of foam forming over your top lip.

“Ha! I think so too!” She laughs as you chug half the glass in one go.

“I think I like beer now, River! I’ve never liked beer before!”

“Never? I’m sure I’ve seen you drink it before.”

“Well yeah, I pretended to like it. What kind of 2000 year old man doesn’t like the taste of beer? Always tasted like piss before now though. I honestly thought everyone else was pretending too!”

River has a good laugh at your expense while you finish your glass and raise your hand to ask for another.

“Hey, wait,” River says, putting a hand on your arm, “If you’re so into it all of a sudden, maybe you should try a different kind? See what you like best an’ all.”

“Good point!” you say, “Any recommendations?”

“Maybe an Ale this time?” She says, then calls out, “Hey Car’?”

“Sup babe?” Carla asks, sauntering over, polishing a glass in her hands.

“Could we get a pint of that Sontaran Pale?”

“You bet.”

You look at her in slight surprise.

“Well, you seem to know your stuff!” you say, “You come to this planet often? Oh! I forgot to ask! What planet are we on? And what year?"

"Ha!" She laughs, "you don't know? Doctor, I know you like to be bossed around, but you really must learn to exercise some authority where the tardis is concerned!"

"W-well, I mean, I," you splutter, "that is, I was  _ trying _ to take us to-  _ oh, would you stop laughing?" _

She doesn't, and you just cross your legs and hide your blush behind your pint glass until she's done.

As it turns out, you're on Anteoch, a little earth-sized exoplanet that was one of humanity's earliest terraforming successes. You've been before, though never as early as the 30th century. River explains she's been taken on as an archaeology professor at the local university. At the skeptical look you give her, she assure you with a roll of her eyes that she's not looking to steal anything more valuable than the labor of a few willing undergrads. She's on the path of something much bigger, and needs some extra eyes to analyze all the texts she's gathered on the subject.

She grows animated as she talks about her search thus far, telling tales of daring prison escapes, planet hopping chases, traitorous business partners, and all manner of dangerous clime. You jump in at odd points with questions and comments, just as interested in such topics as she is, and eventually swap some of your own recent stories, telling her about all the fun you've been having with Yaz and the guys (at the  _ Kerblam!  _ episode, she sighs and admonishes you for being such a "neo-liberal", which you ignore).

You spend what must be a couple hours just sitting there, alternating between trying to one-up each other with adventure stories and ordering one of every beer they have in the building, which turns out to be quite a lot. Your timelord metabolism keeps you from getting drunk unless you actively slow it, of course, though you do eventually realize you're about to piss your pants and have to excuse yourself. You panic for a moment before remembering you're in the 2970s, and the bar's restrooms are definitely gender-neutral.

When you get back, a new, slower song has come on, and you can see River gently swaying back and forth in her barstool with the music. An impulse strikes you- one which you likely would have ignored had you not let yourself get at least a little bit tipsy- and you stride over to tap her on the shoulder. She turns around, an amused smile on her face.

"Can I help you?" She asks.

"Might I trouble the lady for a dance?" You ask, hand extended, trying and failing to stifle a grin. She cocks an eyebrow, smirking at your attempted gallantry, and suddenly you're being dragged onto the dance floor. When you get to its center, though, she spins you around in a way you aren't expecting, and you find yourself pulled in close, both of her hands on your lower back. Mainly on instinct, you reach your own arms up over her shoulders, before realizing what she's done.

"Hey!" You say as you both start to move, "how come you get to lead? I'm the one who asked!"

"Because you're shorter, darling," she says simply.

"What? I am n-" you start indignantly, before looking up at her forehead and faltering. You push yourself closer for a moment, trying to figure out how you match up. After a few seconds, you pull back, pouting. "...Oh."

She looks down at you with the expression one might give an especially cute kitten, or a freshly picked raspberry or something.

"You are… fucking adorable," she says quietly, and you feel a familiar warmth glowing in your chest again. Suddenly you're very conscious of how close your bodies currently are, and how good it feels to have her arms wrapped around you like this.

As if sensing your thoughts, she pulls you in a little tighter, and for a moment you feel your breasts press against hers. In the back of your mind, you feel a stab of unplaceable guilt, mixed with a rush of happiness. This all feels slightly unreal, as a lot of things have lately, as if you've been dreaming, and you might wake up at any moment.

You hope you don't. It wouldn't be the first time something so pure and sweet had turned out to be an illusion. In fact, experience had taught you it was more likely than not.

Ah, ouch, ooh, no, don't think about that. Spicy thought. Hurts to look at. You tense, leaning into River even more, and though she gladly accepts your advance, she looks down at you with a worried expression.

"Sweetie?" She whispers, "are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you reply, pressing your face into her shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, "it's freaking me out."

You feel her give a silent laugh at that, but she says.

"I can understand that. Do you want to stop dancing?"

"Aah," you murmur, thinking it over. "N...no. No. I want to keep dancing."

You try taking a few breaths, and your body relaxes slightly. Feeling the change, River pulls back, just till you can see her face.

"Good. Because I'm having a wonderful time."

She kisses you, and for a moment, you think you might be regenerating all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> If I write another chapter theyre gonna scissor each other back at rivers apartment


End file.
